


"We're Screwed"

by luthor_pendragon



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Diner!AU, M/M, lawyer!Sam, mechanic!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-24
Updated: 2015-11-24
Packaged: 2018-05-03 04:16:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5276264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luthor_pendragon/pseuds/luthor_pendragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam Winchester was a fairly successful lawyer. Dean Winchester was the best mechanic in town. If you didn’t know they were brothers, you wouldn’t think they’d even know of each other. Every Wednesday evening, though, the green-eyed pretty boy in the leather jacket with grease in his hair and the hazel-eyed moose of a man in a dark blue suit and tie would meet at a local diner to catch up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"We're Screwed"

Sam Winchester was a fairly successful lawyer. Dean Winchester was the best mechanic in town. If you didn’t know they were brothers, you wouldn’t think they’d even know of each other. Every Wednesday evening, though, the green-eyed pretty boy in the leather jacket with grease in his hair and the hazel-eyed moose of a man in a dark blue suit and tie would meet at a local diner to catch up.

Except tonight.

“Aw, man,” Dean whined. “I was really jonesin’ for a burger.”

Sam inspected the sign. “Closed for renovations. Apparently there was a fire. Hmm,” he frowned. “Odd that I hadn’t heard about it.”

Dean put his hands in his pockets and leaned against the parked, black, ’67 Chevy Impala. “So, whadd’ya wanna do?”

Sam shrugged, turning to his brother. “Charlie told me about this new place downtown that she likes to go to. Wanna try there?”

“Do they got burgers?”

“From what I hear, yeah. And pie.”

“Well, what are we still doing here?” Dean opened the door and climbed in.

Sam went around the car, laughing, and ducked into the passenger seat. “Any mention of pie and you’re all over it, aren’t you?”

“You’re damn right.” He started the car, smiling. “Where to, bitch?”

“Down on Lincoln and Gold. A place called _Wings Cafe_?”

*

Wings Café was a small place. Sky blue walls, clean floors, shiny tables, gently curved sconces. All the down-home charm of a mom-and-pop place but without the worn-in feel. Not yet, at any rate. And Gabriel meant to keep it that way.

The short blond was washing some dishes. “Yo, Cassie. Whadd’ya say we close up shop early and go out for a drink?”

A taller, dark-haired man poked his head around the corner, dishtowel over his shoulder. “Gabriel, how many times do I have to say it? Don’t call me ‘Cassie’.”

“Awww, but it’s so cute.” He pushed down the lever, trapping the dishes inside the washer. “Besides,” he smirked, “I’m your big brother. I’m allowed to pick on you.” He walked over and tweaked the other man’s nose.

Castiel snapped his towel at his brother’s ass. It was easily dodged. He may have a height advantage over Gabriel, but he had never been as clever. “You’re gonna have to try harder than that if you wanna get me, Cassie,” was line often ejected from the older man’s mouth.

Just then, the bell over the door tinkled. In walked the Winchester brothers. They paused to take in the atmosphere and deduce how exactly it was set up.

“Just sit anywhere you like. We’ll be with you in a second,” Gabriel yelled from the kitchen.

Sam turned to Dean and shrugged. They took a booth on the east wall. “Not a bad joint,” commented Dean as he surveyed the dining room. “Nice and quiet.”

“Yeah, I’m sure the noise in the garage can get overwhelming at times. “ Sam popped his briefcase between himself and the wall.

“Dude, why do you bring that thing everywhere you go?” asked Dean, gesturing towards the object. “You could have left it out in the car. No one’s gonna touch my Baby.”

Sam stared at his brother. “Dean, just because Dad had confidence in her doesn’t mean you should. I am not going to leave important personal documents pertaining to my clients in a car that can be unlocked using a bobby pin. So until you get an up-to-date security system, yeah, I’m gonna carry it with me.”

Dean faked being offended. “Whatever.”

Castiel walked over to the booth. Plastering on his best smile, he handed the two guys their menus, then took out the ticket book. “What can I start you guys off with?” He looked towards the bigger one in the suit.

Sam looked up, taking the menu. “Uh, thanks. Coffee, please.”

“Alright,” he turned towards the other man.

“Same.” Dean looked up, only to freeze in place. The man taking their order was gorgeous. His bright blue eyes seemed too deep behind that fake smile. Like there was no way this man was just a waitor in a tiny diner. It made Dean want to see what a casual one was like. He coughed and quickly looked away.

Cas’ breath hitched involuntarily in response to sudden, stunningly green eyes amidst a field of freckles. It took him a minute to come back to reality. “Right, two coffees. Be right back with those.” He politely hurried back to the kitchen. As soon as he was on the other side of the door, he let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

“What happened?” said Gabriel upon seeing his brother’s face.

“No-nothing.” Cas tried to get two cups down from the rack, but his hand was shaking so bad that he dropped one.

“Uh-huh, you look like you just saw a unicorn out there.” Castiel blushed. Gabe’s eyes went wide and smirk danced across his lips. “You did, didn’t you? What’s his name?” he laughed in a sing-song voice.

“I…. I didn’t get it.” Cas grabbed a third cup down and the coffee pot.

“Well, go get it, ya dingbat.” Gabriel pushed his little brother out the door and back into the dining room.

Castiel took a deep breath and went on his way to the table. “Here ya go fellas, two coffees,” he said as he put down the cups and filled them.

“Thanks,” responded both of them.

“Have you figured out what you’d like?” He pulled out the ticket book again.

Green-eyes smiled up at him. Cas melted instantly. “Yeah,” came the deep voice, “Cheeseburger, medium, all the trimmings.” Then he winked.

The waiter went slightly dizzy. It was like the salt that topped the perfect caramel. Hurriedly shaking off the sensation, he turned to the taller man. “And for you?”

Sam quickly scanned the menu again before handing it back. “Your chef salad, with some grilled chicken added if you can.”

Cas nodded. “No problem. Shouldn’t be more than fifteen minutes, tops. Holler if you need anything.” He walked away.

As soon as the dark-haired man went through the door, Sam smiled at his brother. “Okay, what was that?”

“What was what?” Dean took a sip of his coffee and frowned, interested, down at it. “Damn, that’s good.” He took another and hummed.

“That.” Sam jerked his finger towards the kitchen. “I saw the look on your face. The wink. You think the waiter’s hot, don’t you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Sammy.”

“Bull. I know you. You’ve got the same dumb smile on your face that you did when you met Lisa Braeden back in college. The only thing I’m confused on is, when did you start liking men?”

Dean scoffed. “What do you mean? I’ve always liked men.”

“I’ve never seen you with one.” He added a little sugar and cream to his coffee before taking a drink. “Wow, that _is_ good.”

“Frankie Wilson, tenth grade.”

Sam choked on his coffee. “Frankie was a guy?”

“Yeah. I thought you knew.”

“No, I never met him. I never even saw you two together. I was in sixth grade. We went to different schools.”

“Oh, yeah.” Dean cocked his head to the side, wincing nervously. “Well, Dad, you know? Couldn’t be coming home like that. He’d have popped me a good one.”

“Yeah,” Sam replied quietly. “Glad I never tried it myself.”

This time it was Dean’s turn to splutter. “You don’t mean you…?” He wiped the coffee spilling from his mouth on his sleeve, only to realize what he’d done and plucked a napkin from the dispenser to wipe his jacket off.

Sam smiled sheepishly. “Can’t say I’ve actually ever been with one, but yeah. I mean, I’ve found plenty of men attractive, it’s just never played out, you know?”

There was a slightly uncomfortable silence before both brothers busted up laughing.

Back in the kitchen, Cas and Gabe were working on filling the orders. The older man hassled his brother. “So, did you get his name?” He casually flipped the food on the grill.

“No.” Cas tore some lettuce. He sighed. “What if he’s not into guys? I’d make a complete fool of myself.”

“You’d make a complete fool of yourself just ogling at him, so why not?”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re sure helpful,” he said sarcastically.

“Of course,” smirked the shorter man. “Gotta take care of my little bro, don’t I?”

“Shut up.”

A few minutes later, Cas took the food out to the boys, interacting with them politely, but quickly. He was nearly hyperventilating, again, when he got back to the kitchen.

Gabe could see his brother couldn’t handle another round of this. He threw the dishtowel over the edge of the sink and leaned against it, facing Cas, arms crossed over his chest. “Tell ya what, Cassie, you finish these dishes for me, and I’ll handle dessert.”

Cas squinted at his brother, his brow furrowing. “How do you know they will even want dessert?”

The shorter man gave a cocky wink. “Oh, trust me, they will.” He strode over to start breaking down the work stations.

“What are you planning on doing, Gabriel?” Cas was reluctant to pick up the washrag until he got an answer out of his brother.

“Don’t spoil the surprise,” Gabe joked back. He’d have wagged his finger playfully, but his hands were full as he headed to the back of the room to the walk-in fridge.

Twenty minutes later, Gabriel picked up the ticket book and pranced his way confidently out into the dining room. “Howdy, boyos. We all done for the night? Or you still gotta fill up the corners?”

Dean looked up at the new waiter. This guy definitely wasn’t the black-haired pretty-boy, and he didn’t’ really like the cocky, self-assured look of him. He frowned. “What happened to the other guy?”

“On break. He’ll be back.”

“Oh, well, in that case,” Dean picked up the small dessert menu card stationed next to the condiment wheel. “I’ll have the pecan pie.” He gave a fake smile up at the other man.

Gabriel blew off the guy’s obvious disdain. Years of experience in the hospitality industry will teach you to do that easily. “Excellent choice,” he winked, “chef’s personal favorite.” That seemed to elicit a more positive reaction from the leather-bound grease-monkey, so he turned to the other man. “And what can I get you, big boy?”

Sam cleared his throat. He was so not staring at the adorable little shit. Nope, not staring at all. “Oh, um, can I get the uh…” he snatched the card from Dean’s hand and flipped around. “Oh,” he straightened up, “can I get the fresh fruit parfait?” Putting the card back on the table, he gave the waiter his best smile. One that made it appear as though his eyes were lit up.

Gabriel’s heart skipped a beat, but he didn’t show it. “You got it.” Tucking the ticket book into the pocket of his apron, he took away their empty plates. “Be right back.” Then he tramped off to the kitchen. If he was unconsciously swinging his hips to get the attention of the gigantor in the suit, well, that didn’t really matter.

“Alright, you win,” said Gabriel, setting the dirty dishes down at the sink.

Cas cocked an eyebrow at him. “Oh?”

“He’s gorgeous.” There was a whimsical look on the shorter man’s face as he turned to head towards the fridge.

The younger man laughed. “I told you he was. Those green eyes and all those freckles. Mmm,” he sighed.

Gabe came back with his arms loaded up. “What are you talking about? Did you see the big guy with that smile? And those beautiful long locks?”

“The guy in the suit?”

“Yeah.” This time it was Gabe’s turn to sigh.

“Damn.”

“We’re screwed.”

“Yeah.”

*

“What was that?”

“Hmm?” Sam’s eyes snapped back to his brother, the smile disappearing from his face.

Dean’s eyes went wide. “I know that look.”

“What look?”

“Dude, if you can call me out on Blue Eyes, then I’m gonna call you out on Short Stuff.”

“What are you talking about?” Sam nervously shuffled his napkin between his hands.

“That’s it, I’m getting these guys’ names.”

“What?” Sam looked up at Dean, his face going pink. “Dean, are you nuts?”

“Yup, but the sheer entertainment of watching you get all flustered is overriding my embarrassment in doing the same.”

Sam sighed in defeat. Of course Dean had to be a cocky little shit. Still, it’s not like he was really that confident, deep down.

A few moments later, the shorter waiter came out carrying their desserts.

Sam immediately dug into his, filling his mouth with yogurt and fruit as fast as he could so he didn’t have to talk, or even make eye contact with the guy.

Dean, on the other hand, had thrown him a cocky wink and spoke up. “So, uh, I noticed you guys don’t have any nametags.”

Gabe glanced down at his chest. “Uh, yeah, well, we’re not usually the servers. Me and my brother, we’re the cooks. It’s just that it was so dead that we sent everyone else home.” He scratched the back of his neck and tucked the serving tray under his arm. “I was actually thinking of closing early.”

“Glad you didn’t,” answered the mechanic, smirk crossing his face. “Best burger I’ve had in a while, and Sammy here,” he gestured to the other man, “well, he’s always had a weakness for rabbit food. Said it was one of the best salads he’s ever had.”

Gabe beamed. “Well, thanks, I guess.”

Sam nodded and gave the waiter a thumbs up, still trying to avoid eye contact.

The shortest man giggled. “The name’s Gabriel, but most people just call me Gabe.”

“Sam,” replied the name’s owner after swallowing. He held out his hand professionally.

Gabriel shook it, noticing just how much his own appendage was swallowed up by the other. Then he turned and shook the other man’s.

“I’m Dean.” He laughed. “That takes care of the three of us. What about your brother?”

Laughing, Gabriel gave a whistle towards the kitchen. “Yo, Cassie, get out here!”

“Gabriel, how many times to I have to tell you not to call me that!” shouted the man in response as he emerged from the kitchen.

“Cassie?” laughed the mechanic.

“It’s Castiel, or Cas, please,” he grumped, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

He didn’t think it was possible, but Dean found the man’s annoyed face more beautiful than his smiling one. Maybe because it was genuine emotions this time. Working up his courage, he smiled up at the dark-haired man. “Cas, huh? Well, whadd’ya say we go out for dinner some time?” He followed up with a wink that said so much more than usual.

Cas just squinted at the man in confusion, totally taken aback by the obvious offer of a date in front of his brother.

“Mmm, not a bad idea, Dean-o,” put in Gabriel, not feeling a bit awkward. “What about you, Sam? Feel like painting the town red?”

Sam choked on what was left of his coffee in surprise. He looked at his brother, who was smirking, then moved over to Cas, who had turned to glare at his brother, and finally to Gabe, who was giving him the hungriest eyes he’d ever seen. Swallowing thickly, he nodded. “Uh, sure. I, uh, don’t see why not.” He gave a nervous, sheepish smile.

Gabriel was ecstatic. Time alone with Gigantor seemed such a highlight of an idea. He always had had a thing for people, men especially, who were larger than he was. “Well, alright then.” He pulled out the ticket book again, but instead wrote down his and Cas’ cell numbers. Tearing the page out of the booklet, and then in half, he passed his to Sam and Castiel’s to Dean. “It doesn’t have to be a double date, of course,” snarky smile lighting up his face. “Don’t really want to know what my baby brother’s been getting up to in the middle of the night.” He gave Cas an affectionate one-armed hug, while the other man just groaned and rolled his eyes. Dean chuckled.

“Hey, I’m free tomorrow,” commented the mechanic. “Whadd’ya say?”

Cas gave a huff. “Call me around seven. It sounds good, but I’d have to get away from this bozo first.” He elbowed Gabe in the ribs.

Gabe pulled his arm back with an over-exaggerated groan, his hands over where Cas had hit him. “Aw, Cassie, why you gotta be like that?”

Giggling, Sam interjected with, “I’m always free on Saturdays, if you don’t have a problem with it, Gabe.”

The cook caught sight of those giant, hazel, puppy-dog eyes and melted. “Saturday sounds great, Samsquatch.”


End file.
